The Old Village Road

High up the plains at the bottom of the hill,
There’s a quaint little village that lies hidden.
And, in that village running right in the middle
Is an old village road used by animals and
people.

On it walks the cowherd with his staff and whistle,
And the bells on the necks of his small herd tinkle.
At times, it is crossed by geese in a gaggle
Making all the big carts come to a stand still.

The road is cobbled and has tiny, loose pebbles
And in the trees lining it, the north wind swishes.
But, that doesn’t stop the children as they dash and giggle
With the village dogs whose tails wag and wiggle.

O the old village road holds a lot many secrets
Of the generations that in the quaint village live.
O how I long for those times when all was so simple
When I skipped down the old village road without any reason.